The word apparently carries such stigma that the U.S.D.A. officially changed the name of the perfectly delectable burst of black sweetness to dried plum in 2001. That was some months after the California Prune Board came out with its $10 million campaign to do the same.

That’s sort of sad, in a way. It’s also confusing, because there are such things as dried plums, and they’re truly purple in color (as police say, when describing autos in accidents) and carry a bit of a tangy bite in flavor, a sweet and sour effect.

Prunes, the dried, wrinkled, nearly black version, are made from a European variety of plum, different from the Japanese plums seen in neighborhood supermarkets next to nectarines and peaches and more commonly eaten raw.

More than 90 percent of the world’s prunes are grown in California, and they’re French. There are other varieties, but they’re also European.

It’s primarily the Italian prune that makes its appearance at local farmers markets.

There’s a small window, but it’s hard to imagine people swarming to farmers markets for undried, as in fresh, Italian prunes.

The California prune was introduced by Frenchman Louis Pellier, who brought the prune to San Jose prior to the Civil War. He apparently was part of the California Gold Rush, but found his fame, or at least his fortune, in prunes.

Why is the health-filled little chewy and sticky fruit so maligned?

It’s all in the fiber and its laxative effect: Eat too many prunes and, well. . . this is a family newspaper, so it’s probably best not to delve too deeply into the digestive consequences.

I once brought prunes as a snack to the office staff at my synagogue. My rabbi, Justin David, made an appearance.

When I asked him if he’d like one, he held one and looked at it contemplatively and said, “I’m a regular kind of guy.”

Then he popped it in his mouth.

Prune is a popular flavor of the three-cornered cookie or yeasted pastry called Hamantaschen. Lekvar, a Hungarian prune butter, is a favorite filling for Russian tea cookies.

I just bought a gallon of prunes in hopes of making Lekvar.

I read the recipe only after being inspired.

I hope I have the time - and the stamina. Cooks.com recommends cooking them for a day, “maybe two days,” at 250 degrees - stirring often.

Two days?

Stirring often?

Do I have the time or inclination to stand for 24 or 48 hours over a steaming kettle of prunes, stirring?

Sounds like a great job for the Crock-Pot I don’t yet own and never thought I needed.

Prune cakes and kuchens, yeasted cakes, are never disappointing, unless one is expecting chocolate.

Some time after the dried plum campaign began, Sunsweet came out with individually wrapped prunes (that look like chocolate bites). They’re still marketing them in clear plastic canisters, so they must be selling.

Interestingly, Dannon’s Prune Whip Yogurt, which came out in 1972, was been pulled from the shelves in America, but it’s still sold in Europe. Perhaps Dannon will bring it back under a successful new name: Dried Plum Whip Yogurt. Somehow, it doesn’t have the same ring.

And in 1982 prunes made a caper when the authors of “The Silver Palate Cookbook” featured them in one of that popular tome’s most famous recipes: Chicken Marbella. Capers, by the way, (and olives) were also featured in the same dish.

The oldest living man in the world is 115 and lives in Japan. His name is Jiroemon Kimura.

Guess what he credits partly for his longevity? Yep, prunes.

He told an interviewer last year that he eats them daily and has since reaching the tender age of 60.

So perhaps it’s not surprising that prunes are considered a bit of a wonder food by many.

And in a bit of karmic justice, their infamy, fiber, contributes to their fame.

They’re also loaded with minerals, Vitamin K, are strongly anti-inflammatory, low sodium, high in antioxidants (these are good things), promote digestion and are a natural remedy for, you guessed it, constipation.